"Salt"
a Fruits Basket fragment by Ysabet MacFarlane <ba087@chebucto.ns.ca>
original release: January 7, 2005

Characters are the property of Takaya Natsuki, and this fragment is mine.  Not
for reposting.

********

In all my memories of her, Rin is crying.  Not _really_ all of them, but all the
ones that come to mind when I'm thinking about something else, or when I'm about
to fall asleep, or when I hear her name.

The purest memory I have of her tastes like salt.  I don't have to close my eyes
to feel her skin, the whisper of her hair across my knuckles when I brush it
back to keep it from sticking to her cheeks.  The taste deep in my mouth is
different, the unique blend of her skin and her kisses, but her tears are on my
lips, adding a final garnish.  I've run out of things to say, but my mouth keeps
moving.

The rest of the memory is there if I look for it: the way her head fell back
when I kissed her, the feel of her hands splayed across my back to hold me
close, her heartbeat gradually slowing to a normal rate while we nestle
together.  Pleasure is more likely than pain to make her cry; pain is familiar,
but pleasure always takes her by surprise, as if someone has given her something
beautiful but unfathomable.  With only me to see her, her eyes shine and the
tears flow, moistening my lips when I kiss her.

Salt: the taste of my love in my arms.

*****

When I see her now, her dry eyes make her a stranger.